The Back-up Sock

You know how when you leave the house, you always pack too much knitting. At least I do. I go to my mother's house for the afternoon and pack a sock in my purse, just in case. I go away for a weekend, and bring a current work in progress, or two, or three. I don't really expect to finish ALL of these projects, but I may finish (or arrive at an impasse) one, and I never really know what I am going to FEEL like knitting. So I pack a giant bag. Just in case.

Today, my pack rat quality saved me. I had more continuing education today. This was a video replay of a seminar, so the audience had no reservation in expressing their boredom, disinterest and endless ennui. People rustled newspapers, fiddled on their laptops, and sat with their eyes fixed glazed at the TV screen. I knit. And knit. And knit. I knit so much, I ran out of yarn! Luckily, true to form, I had a sock stuffed in the bag, just in case.

I am making a car seat blankie for a friend of mine that just found out she is pregnant. I received one, and it is by far the most-used craftie item that I have. My husband must like mine better, because he asked if we could keep the one that I am knitting, and send my friend ours. Hmm, can't do that, because there is no way I am going to claim broomstitck crocheting out of cheap yarn as my own, but maybe my three balls of yarn will miraculously be enough for two blankies.

Must pack more yarn, because I am doing part 2 of the continuing ed tomorrow.

Today, it is all about the spare.

Winter tableau

I was a living window display last weekend. A special event downtown encourages the stores to have special window displays demonstrating their crafts. I volunteered to knit in the window of my LYS. Almost two hours of uninterrupted, baby-free knitting time. What a rare treat!

I brought four projects with me, either in extreme denial over how fast I knit, or to allow myself a variety or projects. I knit. I smiled as people passed by. I ate chocolate, kindly provided by the yarn store owner as a thank you. I gawked at knitwear on the street to ward off the extreme cold. It was a wonderful afternoon.

Today, it is all about the memory.

A Little Slow

I have been embarassingly slow in coming to a recent realization about sock knitting. I should knit socks that match my clothes. I can't explain why that occurred to me before. I have been buying sock in any cool color combination that caught my eye. And the less said about my unexplained fascination with self-patterning sock yarn, the better. The result has been several pairs of finished socks that I hardly wear. Even the socks I am working on now: cool colors, that match nothing in my closet.

Obviously, I need to buy more sock yarn. Don't tell my husband.

Today, it is all about the clashing colors.

Any excuse

I was at a continuing education seminar this week. More interesting than most, if you forget about the presenter that simply read the power point parts to us, which were provided in our materials anyway. There was one unique section. They talked about ways to avoid attorney burnout. She instructed us to talk to our neighbor of things we do for mental health, or things we used to do and should really start again. I took that as a cue to take out my knitting. I normally don't knit during live seminars, no matter how mind-numbing, just because I think it is rude. (Even though simple knitting can actually focus the mind, which is completely under-rated in the muggle world.) After the neighborly discussion, she went around the room with the mike to share with the room (and I am certain that portion will be very stimulating for the video replay people), and my response was "I am doing it right now." Which I feel gave me free reign to knit for the rest of the seminar.

Finally! Some measurably progress on my sock! I had been only a few rows past the ribbing forever. I have been knitting a little on everything, so no single project looks like it is any further than before. I needed to be trapped with one project for an endless period of time, at least it seemed endless.

Here is the little guy modeling Mommy's sock. Does anyone else think it looks like a sleeve for him?

Today, it is all about the mental health.

Elective knitting

No matter who you vote for, be sure to vote. Finally, the end to election season. After today, no more mailings, TV or radio ads touting or bashing a candidate for something or other. The longest, most expensive election had finally drawn to a close. Personally, I can think of better ways to spend a billion dollars then endless, annoying ads every 15 minutes, but that is just me.

I voted last Friday, since I am frequently at the courthouse anyway, and I had the little guy with me. He got his first lesson in civic responsibility, though he slept through most of it. Now, we are ready to see the results unfold on TV. He had a long nap this afternoon, so should be ready to stay awake late (a mixed blessing), and I have knitting for every contingency: complex lace knitting for the early hours when there is nothing to really report but that doesn't stop idle network chatter, medium complex sock knitting for the hours when I want to pay attention to what is being said, and mindless knitting in case this thing drag on into the wee hours of night or worse, an early landslide for the other guy that leaves me wanting to crawl under my bed for four years with without my needles.

Tonight, it is all about the electoral math.

Baby's First Halloween

Ok, so maybe the little guy is too small to understand the concept or even think about eating candy, we still took him trick-or-treating at the mall. Thanks to an unusually warm evening, the cozy, thick originally-planned bumblebee costume had to be scrapped. Instead, we dressed him in one of his Colts onesies, and he became their littliest fans. Mommy and Daddy both wore Colts jerseys as well.

I have also been hard at work on the endless mindless hoodie. One skien done, four (maybe five) to go! Mommy, I think it will be a long time before I grow into this.

Meanwhile, I have been having a love affair with lace. I drool over whispy pictures on the internet, dream of yarn overs, and my eyes glaze over intricate charts and graphs. My next project is calling to me. The yarn is sitting there, mocking me with its delicate softness. The needles are resting nearby. The pattern is selected, downloaded, reviewed, and ready to start. All the pieces are in place. . . .and yet, I haven't started. Why, you ask? Because I know if I don't finish my first lace project, Branching Out, first, I never will. It will be like the first neglected sock that never gets a mate. So instead, I have been working on Branching Out, only slightly resentful that it is not the new lace that I really want to be working on.

Today, it is all about the anticipation.

Mental Knitting

I had to do some mental knitting a few days ago. I had finished the ribbing on my new socks for myself, Twisted Tweed. I started on the first pattern row, did three repeats, and realized that I was doing it wrong. I just did not understand the instructions, even though they were not difficult. When I slipped a few stitches with the yarn in front, then knitted a few, I kept ending up with an extra stitch in there. I pictures socks that increased by a dozen stitches every other row, and knew that definitely wasn't right.

I cruised onto Ravelry, to see if anyone had an explanation. I only had a few minutes, and didn't find one, but I did take a gander at some nice pictures that showed the stitch detail. After a day of mulling over the pictures and description, I finally figured it out.

I tested my theory, and sure enough. Lovely! Who knew that mental knitting could be so effective?

Today, it is all about the mind.

I've created a monster

I have been hard at work with new projects. Socks for the little guy. . . . .

Socks for me. (He looks less enthused knowing they aren't for him.)

And the sweater/hoodie for my sweetie. This is my mindless knitting. After the couple inches of ribbing, I knit in stockinette for over two feet. Round and round and round she goes. When she stops, no one knows. I feel like I will be knitting on this until the next ice age, but it is a direct request from my sweetie, so I don't mind. Mindless knitting definitely has its time and place. I like having something that I can pick up for two minutes.

But I may have created a monster with my sweetie's recent request. Last weekend, we went to the Indy Irish Fest. While drinking cider, listening to the music and examining the wares, I (of course) wanted to look at the knitted items booth. Not that I was going to buy anything. I just wanted to get ideas and see what they had. My sweetie saw some of the breathtaking hand-knit cable wool sweaters, and asked if I could make something like that for him. Well, I have not yet completed my first cabled knit, and wool is more expensive than the cheap hoodie yarn, but I don't see why not.

Then came the details: I like this cable, but not that one. Don't make it too small. Don't make the neck too tight. It won't be a V neck, will it? The designs on that sweater are too busy. I decided the safest route would be to make the little guy a prototype, so we could resolve all the design questions. Plus it would be cute for them to have matching sweaters.

Then I realized that I had just committed myself to knitting 2 cable sweaters. When will I have time to knit the 50 something items in my ravelry queue for myself?

Today, it is all about the sweaters.

Found!

I am pleased to announce that I did indeed find my missing sock. It was stuffed in a diaper bag that the hospital gave us. One that we obviously hadn't used yet. The twin sock was very happy, and is vowing never to be separated again. In my joy and glee, I started working on it again, and finished the sock. Except for Kitchnering the toe, of course. That just takes a level of concentration that I haven't had time to do yet. So, my mother will be getting her socks long before the cold weather comes. That has to be some kind of record.

When Grandma was watching my little guy the other day, she commented that she has trouble finding booties/socks for him. Well, that was because they were all in the laundry. Then yesterday it occurred to me , I could knit him socks. What took so long for me to think of that? The best thing about knitting baby things is, of course, they are very small and don't take long to finish. So last night, I started a tiny little sock for him. Already have the cuff nearly finished. :-)

My sweetie took one more step in converting to a knit husband. He saw me wearing a hooded sweatshirt that I made a few years ago, and asked if I could make him one. He even went with me to look at the yarn colors in person, and followed my suggestion of which color. (The blue was just richer and prettier. The charcoal gray was just plain boring.) The yarn selected (though not purchased), we proceeded to step 2: He picked out a sweatshirt that he likes the fit, so I could take meaurements and choose a size and confirm his desired level of ease. I am excited. I may even buy the yarn tomorrow to cast on.

Mommy had her six-week post-pardum checkup, and confirmed that I am completely healed. I have lost all but 2 of the baby poundage, and the am cleared to do anything I want. Exercise was also suggested, especially to re-tighten my abs, though that will depend on my level of sleep deprivation. After a bad night with only a few hours of sleep, I am not really in the mood to work out. But what I have been in the mood for is . . . . knitting. (Get your mind out of the gutter.) I have been pulling out long-neglected projects, and dreaming of new ones. It makes me feel like I am truly back to normal to feel this level of excitement about all things knitted again.

Today, it is all about the knit-spiration.

Pomotomus Revisited

I did a little work on Pomotomus at Sock club a couple weeks ago. It was like seeing an old friend again. How could I have ignored it for so long? I just love the easily-remembered pattern, that looks more complicated than it is.

So I have been happily working on it again (what with the plain sock missing in action). I have nearly completed an entire pattern repeat, the last one before starting on the heel.

Unfortuately, this work came with a painful lesson: Never leave your knitting where a toddler can find it. Last weekend, my brother approached me with DPN's in his hand. "Do you know what these are?"

"Yes, those are the spare needles in my knitting bag, right?" I said, the last word filled with weak hope. I ran back to the room where I had left my knitting. There my sock was, laying on the bed without a single needle in it. I suggested that my nephew not sit next to me at dinner. I didn't want to risk an impulse to strangle him.

It really could have been worse. While the little guy did discover that needles are removeable, he didn't realize that pulling on any of the pretty strings would make a bigger mess. I was going to reconstruct the needle arrangment right away, but my sweetie (perhaps wisely) suggested I wait until I was no longer angry about it.

The good news is that the sock is back on the needles. The bad news is that one repeat has an error that I haven't figured out yet. I may just try to knit the next row, and see if that makes it easier to decipher, or at least correct.

My nephew is also fine, and continuing to wreak havoc on grandma's house. Just leave my knitting out of it, kiddo.

Today, it is all about the kid.

Interview with a Muggle

Me: What is your favorite thing about my knitting?
My sweetie: It keeps you occupied when we go places that I like that you don't. (I am guessing that he is referring to Nascar Club, but really any Nascar or sporting even would qualify.)

Me: What is your least favorite thing about my knitting?
My sweetie: When it lays around the house. (You mean that one sock in progress on the coffee table that I worked on last night and will work on this evening?)

Me: What is something I have knitted that you recall as being good?
My sweetie: My socks. (Ah, the Secret Wedding Socks that I gave at the rehersal dinner, so he wouldn't get cold feet before the wedding. At least he appreciates the finished product.)

Me: Do you think knitting is an expensive hobby?
My sweetie: No. (Ok, that is one facet of knitting ignorance I think is best left intact.)

Me: What are your hobbies?
My sweetie: Motorcycles, Nascar, hunting, fishing. . . . .what is this for, anyway?
Me: Um, nothing.

Me: If we compared money spent on hobbies, who would win?
My sweetie: You. You spend a lot of money.
Me: (Remembering that I had not bought yarn at all this calendar year, since I did so little pregnancy knitting.) You mean groceries?
My sweetie: Yes, and CVS. (We will ignore for the moment that he considers groceries and toiletries purchases as my "hobby".)

Me: Has my knitting in public ever embarassed you?
My sweetie: Oh yes! Um, I mean, no.

Me: Do you know my favorite yarn?
My sweetie: Baby yarn? (Sigh. I have one partial skein of cheap baby yarn. I have a small plastic bin of sock yarn in the house. The rest of my stash is stored off the premises, so I wouldn't expect him to know anything about. How can he not notice that most of what he sees me knitting is socks?)

Me: Can you name another blog?
My sweetie: No (Not even the Yarn Harlot? He really doesn't listen when I speak at all.)

Me: Do you mind that I want to check out yarn stores everywhere we go?
My sweetie: You do?

Me: Do you understand the importance of a swatch?
My Sweetie: Sure, they tell time.

Me: Do you read my blog?
My Sweetie: No.

Me: Have you ever left a comment? . . . . That one would be "no" too, right?
My sweetie: Right.

Me: Do you think the house would be cleaner if I didn't knit?
My sweetie: Yes.

Me: Do you have anything to add in closing?
My sweetie: Less knitting; more cleaning.

Hands off, ladies. He's mine. I am trying to remind myself that he didn't marry me because he loves knitting, and that I have had a mere year and a half, and knit-love training takes a lot longer than that.

Any training methods that have worked for other knitters in the past would be appreciated.

Today, it is all about the training.

Knitting Amber Alert

We interrupt this blog for a Knit Amber Alert. Pictured is the mate of a missing sock in progress. The missing sock is approximately 75 % finished, and has been missing since returning from the hospital with baby. Please contact me with any sightings. A reward of competing sock yarn is offered.

In happier news, I finally finished the little guy's knitted hat. Isn't that cute? The picture doesn't really do it justice, since it looks like it could be the size of a thimble.

Mom, do I really need a cozy hat in August? Dad doesn't keep the air conditioning THAT cold.

Today, it is all about the finished hat.

A Well-loved baby

You can always recognize a well-loved baby. They are surrounded by hand-crafted items. Everyone loves babies, and crafters just can't resist making something tiny and cute for any baby that touches their lives. My baby is truly blessed. Here he is, surrounded by aphgans, quilts, hats sweaters and booties, all knitted, crocheted or stitched with love.

He looks so tiny next to that stack. And confused. "Mom, what are you doing?" Cameras are still new to him. I am just glad that I caught his eyes open. He is such a wiggler, half of my pictures show him turning away from the camera.

And here is my scrap of knitted love for the little guy. One unfinished hat. On the plus side, I did find the missing DPN. I have even been knitting on it, having finally coming to the conclusion that storing yarn and needles in the same bag does not spontaneously produce knitted finished objects.

Just so my stack doesn't look so paltry, don't forget I also made a stack of hand-finished receiving blankets. I received several as gifts, as well, but they are in use or in the laundry, so did not get pictured. You can never have enough receiving blankets for a newborn.

Today, it is all about the knitted love.

He's heeeeeerrrrre!

Little Thumper greeted the world on July 29, 2008, at 9:46 a.m., a mere 5 hour and 46 minutes after my water broke. 8 pounds, 4.2 ounces, with a FULL head of brown hair.

I promise that I will post soon pictures of him, and all the wonderful knitted gifts he received. Just haven't had the chance yet. I don't know what I have been doing!

Today, it is all about the little guy.

Not yet. . . .

My official due date is Thursday, and Thumper has not shown any inclination to enter the world early. My sweetie has become more impatient this past week, but I think that is mostly because it has been so ungodly hot, and it isn't like the poor boy works in air conditioning. I think he was hoping the hottest week of the summer so far would coincide with his maternity leave. Sorry, dear, no such luck.

Just to placate him, I did time my contractions last night. They aren't even painful yet, just a tightening pressure around my abdomen, but you can't tell my impatient father-to-be that. Ok, they are 90 minutes to three hours apart, and irregular. No need to go to the hospital yet.

Meanwhile, I have found a coupel scraps of time and energy to work on my mother's socks in progress. I turned the heel in, um, April, and have a good inch or two finished on the foot. At this rate, she may have them to wear by Christmas. It is just too bloody hot to knit anyway! Even in an air-conditioned house (too cold air conditioning, but that is an ongoing passive-agressive dispute between spouses), even the idea of knitting sounds hot.

Today, it is all about the heat.

Bad knitter!

I went to Sock Club last Saturday, with my giant belly preceding me. (24 days and counting til the due date, if anyone is wondering.) The fellow sock knitters chastized me because I had not yet knit anything for Thumper, other than an unfinished little hat. And even that will remain unfinished for a while, because the last time I went to pick it up, one DPN was missing. Oops. Why don't they sell those in sets of six or seven. It can't come as a surprise that we WILL lose one or two at some point. I want to conduct a search of all purses, briefcases and knitting bags before I break down and buy an additional set of that size.

However, in my knitting defense, I do want to point out that Thumper's little hat is the ONLY thing that I have started in my entire pregancy. It isn't like I have been knitting new projects for anyone else. Everything in my bag was started pre-pregnancy, and is STILL in progress. I honestly just haven't been doing much knitting. Normally, I knit while I do other things: watch TV, wait in line, wait for court, take a lunch break, and so on. These days, when I have an oppotunity to just sit still and rest for a few minutes, I take it.

Does Child Protective Services consider it nelgect if you fail to knit for your child?

Today, it is all about the knitting guilt.

Knitting Black Hole

I am in the knitting black hole. You know, where everything you are working on is in the vague area of half-done. You knit and knit and knit on various projects, and can see no noticeable difference on any of them. Pomatomus, baby hat, Mom's ribbed socks, I have knit on all of them, and they look exactly the same.

My sweetie (though I am mad at him today, so use the term with some annoyance) and I are going camping this weekend. Ok, I can laze around outside as easily as around the house. Just make sure we have comfortable chairs. So this may be a good time to make some knitterly progress, without the pesky distractions of housework and laundry. I don't even have to think about which projects to bring. All of them, of course.

The only thing I have been finishing lately is the flannel receiving blankets. Four down, last one half finished.

Well, I am "finishing" on little Thumper too. Eight weeks til his cast off! We won't talk about how I currently resemble a hippo.

Today, it is all about the blackness.

Admissions of a Slacker

I should be ashamed of myself. I realized today that it has been NEARLY A MONTH since the Yarn Harlot came to speak, and I have yet to blog about it. Or anything else, for that matter. I am a Blog Slacker. My three regular readers (if there are that many) must have been horribly disappointed in me this month.

As it turns out, no harm has been done. I have vivid memories of the evening of knitterly delight. I carpooled with three other enthusiastic knitters. We, of course, wanting a good seat, arrived three hours early. They had less than 100 chairs out, and didn't seem to notice that half we already filled. Nonetheless, we scored several front row seats off to the side. See?

We met a charming woman behind us, who doesn't knit but was saving seats for her do sisters that do knit. Does that make her a squib? Someone from a knitting family who doesn't knit?

The hours flew by as we chatted with other knitters, ooohed and ahhhed over knitting in progress and in finished form, and waited in breathless (Ok, maybe that was just me, little Thumper presses on my diaphragm something awful) anticipation.

The bookstore people must have finally gotten the hint and set out more chairs. Someone (I suspect a yarn store representative) put out a few welcoming knit-related signs. Finally, she appeared. The famous Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. She was just as funny as she is on her blog, in her books, and in my dreams. I was laughing so hard at times, I thought I would go into early labor. Naturally, everyone wanted to meet her at the signing afterwards, whether they had a book to sign or not. I didn't, but all three of my carpoolers did, and I had noooo objection to waiting in line with them. Stephanie had stated that people "with babies on the inside or outside" could cut in line, I didn't. Though I did swipe a folding chair to use at intervals in the line.

Other than happening too fast, meeting her was a dream come true. We presented the Indiana- themed washcloth (very clever, wish I could take credit for any part of its creation), and even rated a picture with Stephanie's traveling sock. I assume that my giant belly earned the right to hold the sock.

Today, it is all about the Harlot.

Men just don't understand

My husband this morning: "You sound excited. You are acting like this is a race or something."

Excuse me, this is FAR more exciting than a Nascar race. Those happen all the time. There are, like, 40 Nascar races that are fully televised every year. There is one ever year within a 75 mile radius of our home: The Brickyard 400. There are actually THREE races per year near home, if you count the Indy 500, the Brickyard 400, and the Grand Prix.

The Harlot, on the other hand, has not yet come to Indiana. (That I know about, at least.) This is a rare event, and worthy of excitement far exceeding that of cars going in circles really fast. And if he calls knitters crazy one more time, I am going to pummel him.

Please forgive him. It takes more than a year to properly train a Muggle Husband.

Today, it is all about the excitement.

Knitting Blahs

The other day, I realized why I have been kind of bored with all of my WIPs. I am on the second sock in everything. Pomotomus, Jaywalker, charity socks, Mom's socks. Even my little baby hat is the second one in a row that I am doing in the same yarn. I realize that second socks are necessary, since humans were born with two feet, but it gets a little boring to finish something, then turn around and make the exact same thing in the exact same yarn.

I did finish a charity sock the other day, while watching "Memoirs of a Geisha", so maybe that will help inspire me to finish all these second socks! It is either that or succumb to the yarn whispering to me from the sock yarn bin to start something new. Resistance is futile.

Today, it is all about the resistance.

P.S. My camera is back on speaking terms with my computer, after a brief but successful mediation. I should be able to start posting pictures again.

The Harlot is coming! The Harlot is coming!

That's right. Knitting's closest thing to a rock star is coming to Indiana! She will be signing her latest book just north of Indy, a mere 50 miles or so from me! Naturally, I will be there. I don't care how, I will make it, and preferably stay awake for the whole event and on the drive home. The local yarn store accidently scheduled a yarn tasting event for the same night, but surely SOMEONE else will be going to see the Harlot for carpooling purposes. Must remember to go to Knit Night tonight to find out.

Today, it is all about the Harlot!

When you are bored with everything else,

start something new. Except this was a baby something, so I think it falls under the exception to the usual "not going to start anything new until I finish one thing" rule. (My computer isn't speaking to my camera today, so I can't show any pictures. As opposed to my recent picture laziness that accounts for the lack of pictures all last month.) You will just have to imagine my new project. Nothing special, just a little baby blue hat for a new baby. That was the only thing baby that I could remember off the top of my head.

And in case my husband ever thinks I have too many needles, he should remember the half hour I spent combing the house and muttering to myself while in search of any double point needles that would come anywhere close to being right for the yarn.

As it is, this cute little hat was finished just in time for a baby shower. (Literally, I was decreasing in the car, and bound off when I got there.) So now I have to start another one for my little thumper.

I have made timely but not measurable progress on works in progress. I have knit minutes on all of them, and yet can't see any difference. Is there a support group for this?

The weather is warming, so my sweetie is taking the bike out every chance he gets. I can only wave as he leaves, with slight envy in my heart. Riding, even as a passenger, is on my "don't list" right now. I know it is supposed to be safe enough, but I am just not confortable with the idea with baby on board. Plus, there is the problem of this giant belly of mind. (I was nearly the same size as the expectant mother at that shower last weekend, even though she was allegedly two months farther along than I was. Course, she is 15 years younger, and probably started out as a size 2. Besides, my baby will be larger and healthier. That is my story and I am sticking to it.)

Today, it is all about baby blue, baby boy hats.

Pink or Blue?

We had the ultrasound last week. The little one was very active and a little camera shy, but we finally got the view that my husband wanted. Ta da! There it was, his little winky. Within hours, his mother had purchased little boy clothing at the Harley store.

Guess I can start knitting little blue booties now. That is why I hadn't knit anything for the baby yet. I didn't know what color to use. Right. Sure.

Today, it is all about the blue.

Public Debut

My mother-in-law took me shopping for a birthday present. I think my husband tipped her off that in addition to some maternity clothes, I needed a pair of work-appropriate, comfortable, supportive shoes.

So behold, my new shoes! They are so comfy, even if they aren't my usual style. And it is pure coincidence that they are perfect for wearing hand knit socks.

Usually, I wear my socks at home, snuggled on the sofa on cold winter days, because I didn't really have any shoes that would show them off. No more! I am sporting these puppies in public now, and revelling in how cozy my feet feel at the office.

Makes me want to hurry up and knit more socks. I have finished another couple rows on Pomatomus, so I should have them finished by. . . . . mid July or so. Hmmmm, that doesn't sound encouraging.

Today, it is all about the publicity.

Numbers

1: The number of heartbeats the doctor heard last week. And he had to search long and hard to find it, so my sweetie can just stop teasing me about twins.

136: The number of heartbeats per minute. According to the old wives tale, little girls are under 140, and little boys are over. When Mom was pregnant with me, I was exactly 140, so this isn't exactly a science.

18: How many weeks pregnant I am. (16 weeks gestation)

2: How many more weeks until the untrasound.

4: How many pounds I gained last month. The doctor would have liked to see only 2, but since all my other numbers are fine, he didnt' give me a hard time.

$300-400: the price of the class for the birthing method I want to use. I have already read the book (and found I have used the methods for other things, like for cramps in college and for my insomnia), but I had no idea the class itself would be so expensive. The closest instructor is in Indy, and we are trying to figure out if we can car-pool with someone else in Lafayette, or she can travel here for a private shortened class, but even those options won't be much cheaper. We are still discussing this. We can still use the method even if we don't take the class. After all, I self-trained myself for the LSAT too.

97: The number of cents our kid's first set of keys cost at Walmart. A set of baby plastic chewing keys are tradition.

105 (estimated): How many time I have to pee a day.

8: Number of weeks until me and my sweetie celebrate our first anniversay. So soon!

4: The paltry number of rows I have completed on Pomatomus in the past week.

FO!

And we have a nursery! Fresh paint, new(ish) carpet, and assembled crib and changing table. And since Sara asked in the comments, the nursery isn't "pink or blue" yet. My sweetie and I are currently in negotiationgs about whether we will find out the sex or not. The carpet is dark green, the car seat, stroller, high chair etc are sage green. The nursery has a unisex "celestial" theme, with suns and moons and stars, mostly in yellow with a little blue sky.

Obligatory knitting content: I have also been plugging away at Pomatomus. Now halfway through the second pattern repeat of the leg (there are three). I better finish this soon. People keep asking me what I am knitting for baby. Um, nothing, this is for me. See? Big person sock.

I obviously need to go stash diving soon and put something for baby on the needles.

Today, it is all about finished objects, even if they aren't knitted.

Return to Sock Club

Safely into the second energy-filled second trimester, I went to Sock Club last Saturday. My first knitting related event since I got pregnant. I sat for two hours and worked on my Pomotomus sock. It was delightful, even if I only knit about an inch. It felt like it took a while to get back into the swing of it.

And since then. . . I haven't knit a stitch. Sigh. I have pulled it out a couple times, but somehow never got around to actually knitting. This is like becoming a member of a gym, but never going there. The sock simply does not magically knit itself, no matter how many times I leave it under my pillow.

In baby news, my sweetie has been hard at work in the nursery. The ceiling and walls are painted, and last night, he was working hard on the new(er) carpeting. My father didn't have the nursery done by my due date (good thing I was two weeks late!), so my sweeties is very ahead of the game. He says he didn't want to risk putting it off til the last minute. I think he is just sick of all the baby stuff stacked in the living room. I don't want to say his mother is a little excited, but she started buying things for the baby in my first trimester. God bless grandmas.

Today, it is all about the nursery, er, I mean sock club.

The Popsicle incident

Our heroine entered the garage, a slight frown marring her features. "We are out of popsicles," she announced to her platinum-blond husband.

A look of concern mixed with amusement crossed his handsome features. 'Do you want me to run to the store to get more?"

She considered his offer. Popsicles were silly enough in January, without a special trip to the grocery store in search of them. Still, they were out. "Do you know what kind to get?"

"No."

She sighed. Apparently he had already forgotten her monologue only a few days before regarding her excitement at seeing these particular popsicles and memories of the same ones from her childhood had been a waste of breath. "No, you don't have to do that." He would probably buy the wrong ones anyway, and she didn't want a repeat of the onion roll incident. She kissed him on the cheek and went back inside the house, visions of cherry-pineapple childhood popsicles dancing in her head. She would have to stop by the grocery store on the way home from work.

Am I still a biker chick. . . .

if I sell my bike? That's right, I sold my baby, to fund my new baby. I had been thinking of it for a while, since we found out that I was expecting, and last week, I did it. I wasn't going to be able to ride at all next year, and who knows after that, so I sold my bike. Motorcycles don't like sitting in a garage being neglected. They deserve to be out on the open road. If I can't ride the bike, then I needed to find a good home for it, with a new owner that would.

So that money will now buy a crib, car seat, stroller, etc. I was ready to upgrade bikes anyway, even if my wallet wasn't. Maybe in a few years. . .

My husband laughed as I went in to the garage to say goodbye to her. She was a great first bike. We learned a lot from each other.

Just a different type of needle

Ah, blessed second trimester. The queasies are down to hardly ever, and is usually just a sign that I need to eat or have eaten too much. And my energy level close to back to normal. Last weekend, I caught up (nearly) on cleaning. This weekend, because I am not crazy enough to venture out into that Arctic Blast and 20 below wind chill factor, I am catching on on laundry and cleaning the last few neglected areas. (We do not talk about the shower lately, but today, it will sparkle.)



My sleep cycle is completely screwed up, but that has nothing to do with the little one. That is because of my fourth deadbeat tenant in a row. I am still in the process of suing the last two, and now and facing another eviction. What makes people think that they have the right to live in a place, and not pay for it? Do they think that I am wealthy and can support their family as well as my own? Guess what, I am not! Yesterday was the cherry on the sundae. She lied to me. She out and out lied to me. Did you call today to have the gas transferred into your name? (We won't mention that it should have been done two months ago, and that she has already said she was going to three times in the past month.) Yes, I did. I called today. Really? Because according to the gas company, you didn't; you better, or it is going to get very cold inside the house. That was my last ounce of patience. The final straw! The rent is late (allegedly in the mail), and it is only the third month. I hope they don't mind moving, because they are going to be again as soon as I can get their deadbeat butts out of there! Worrying about this is keeping me awake at night, and I just don't need it. I am ready to just sell the house, and i don't care if I take a loss on it. I just want out! No wonder this little town has hardly any houses for rent, landlords who try to provide reasonable-cost housing are driven to their knees in a couple short years.



I'm sorry. I feel better after venting.

I have been working the needle lately, just not a knitting needle. I have been busy stitching receiving blankets. Well, blanket, singular, so far. I am on my first, but it is half finished. I have four more folded pieces of flannel waiting on me. I know, it isn't knitting, but it is the first time I have had energy to do anything craft related in months, so I am excited. I am even back to reading my blogs of worth. Makes me feel like life is back to normal a little.

Today, it is all about venting back to needledom.